


Strange Company

by rubbishwriter



Category: U2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 06:44:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2683118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubbishwriter/pseuds/rubbishwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>alright i wrote this in one of my school books in a code i could only half understand. It is pretty shit and please don't blame me completely for the way it turned out</p>
    </blockquote>





	Strange Company

**Author's Note:**

> alright i wrote this in one of my school books in a code i could only half understand. It is pretty shit and please don't blame me completely for the way it turned out

I met his gaze across the crowded bar. His brilliant blue eyes narrowed slightly and a small smirk danced across his lips. A lock of dark hair fell across his handsome face as he turned his head away slowly and deliberately, knowing full well that my eyes were on nothing but him. He lazily scratched at the stubble on his chin as he gazed into the depths of his pint of beer. My pulse quickened as I noticed his leather jacket was unzipped far below the social norm, exposing a great deal of his chest to the patrons of the pub. I tried to return my focus to my meal, but found myself unable to take my eyes off him.  
Reaching into his jacket he drew out a packet of cigarettes and stooped his head to light one. After inhaling slowly from it he leaned back in his chair, hooded eyes roaming the room and a slight roguish smile enhancing his features. He frowned as his survey of the room came to me, still staring at him and gaping like an alarmed fish. Embarrassed, I quickly looked away and began to gobble down my food. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t look at him again.  
***  
Sensing an unfamiliar presence, I glanced up, expecting to see the waiter. I think you’ve probably read enough fan fictions to know that it was not the waiter. It was the gorgeous man who had caught me drooling at him earlier. My face reddened. Lord, he was even worse close up. A heavy musk surrounded him, a sexy aroma of cigarettes, whiskey and a masculine scent that sent my intoxicated brain haywire. There was a mischievous glint in his eye which indicated he was full aware of the effect he had on me and was in no hurry to alleviate me of it.  
“Mind if I sit here, love?” I nearly gasped at the sound of his voice; it was soft and deep with a noticeable Irish lilt. It took me a moment to realise that he had asked me a question. “Uh… Yes, yeah sure,” I stumbled, cursing my inability to form coherent sentences. He sat in the chair next to mine, lazily stubbing his cigarette in the ashtray with a practiced hand.  
He ran a hand through his dark hair and leaned closer to me, a satisfied smirk plastered across his pale face. I shifted uncomfortably. He radiated self-confidence and swagger lounging there and I realised this was a man used to getting his own way- no wonder with a face like that. I gulped nervously, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He noticed. His face creased into a broad, crooked grin and he cocked his head slightly to the side. “You alright love?”  
I was most definitely not alright. This man clearly had no concept of personal space; his piercing blue eyes studied me intensely and he was far too close, his elbow resting casually on the table next to where my meal lay forgotten. I averted my eyes from his chest area after I caught a glimpse of his pale skin. I first took note that he obviously didn't shave his chest. Once again, I had to struggle to answer him. I’d be surprised if he didn’t think I had mental problems. “Oh yes…yeah I’m fine. What scintillating conversation. He laughed softly.  
His smirk suddenly angered me, how dare he interrupt my dinner and intimidate me? I was about to ask him this when he spoke, wisps of cigarette smoke escaping from his lips. “I saw you sitting alone and thought you might like some company. Please do not look so enraged, I will leave at your request. Excuse me for not introducing myself; my manners are not the best.” With a self-deprecating smirk, he went on: “My name is Bono, strange name I know but there is quite the tale behind it.” He hesitated, unsure whether I was about to clout him. My mind was certainly made up: he was indeed excused. I smiled at him. “I won’t object to your company, as long as you buy me a glass of wine.” His face broke into a devilish grin and he rose to get the drinks. I settled back into my chair. I thought I would find his company more than adequate.


End file.
